With Great Power
by SSVCloud
Summary: When Abin Sur crash-lands on Earth, he is fatally wounded. He sends his ring out to find a being on earth worthy of wielding the power of the Green Lantern. The ring brings him... Peter Parker! And someone got bitten by a spider at the Science Center! A/N: Based on the Spectacular Spider-Verse.
1. Chapter 1

1: A Different Responsibility

"A child?" Abin Sur gurgled out in disbelief as bloody purple foam seeped from between his teeth. What sorry state was this "Terra" in if a _child_ was the one most worthy of wielding the Ring's power? Even as he pondered this, Abin could feel the life bleeding out of him and realized that he did not have the time to dawdle on such trivial thoughts. "L-listen to me, boy," he told the youth with labored breaths, "There… there is not much time."

Peter Parker could only gawk as he was suspended in the air in a bubble of some kind of… solid green light. How had this _happened?_ Five minutes ago he'd been in detention and had just stepped out to use the bathroom. Now he was standing, floating rather, on a beach in front of a crashed spaceship and an honest-to-God _alien!_ How had this happened?

 **The Day Before**

"Seriously, Flash?" Gwen Stacy asked before letting an irritated breath out of her nose, "What is this, fourth grade?" She was a pretty young blonde in a pink hoodie and jeans with big blue eyes that were at this moment fixed in an agitated expression behind her eyeglasses. The source of that agitation was Flash Thompson, the star athlete of Midtown High School. He was tall and athletic with a coif of blonde hair and a strong jaw. He was also holding a blue composition notebook in his hand and out of Gwen's reach. Going by the fact that it said "Gwen Stacy" on the cover, however, it was presumably not his. "Just give it back!" Flash smirked as he leaned against a locker and flipped through the notebook.

"Relax, Gwen," he said with fake innocence, "I just wanted to look at your notes. You know we've got that big science test coming up, and I don't have time to study." Kenny "Kong" McFarlane chuckled as he stood by Flash's side, a bald mountain of a teen that was even taller than Flash… if not quite as fit.

"Then you could just _ask,"_ Gwen huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest, "And besides, that isn't even my science notebook! That's _personal!"_ Flash chuckled and his eyebrows raised up with intrigue.

"Oh really?" he asked and grinned as he started to read. Gwen made a move to go at him when a voice made them all stop and look.

"Just give it back, Flash," Peter Parker said. He was a lanky youth with dark brown eyes and shaggy brown hair in brown cargo pants and a blue t-shirt with a satchel slung diagonally across his chest. "Before something happens that you'll regret." Gwen winced as Peter walked towards them and looked around for a teacher to call. Peter was a good guy but if he kept playing the hero like this he was going to get killed. Peter glared up at Flash as the jock smirked down at him. "Drop it." Peter insisted as sternly as he could. Flash scoffed and Peter shoved him in the chest with both hands. Flash took a step back, more surprised that Peter actually _did_ something rather than being moved by any actual force Peter put into it, and the composition book fell from his hands. Gwen scooped the book off the floor and hoped that would be the end of it. Flash's shocked expression transformed into a glare to let Gwen know that, of course, it wasn't. Kong had walked around behind Peter while his attention was on Flash and shoved him forward to Flash who grabbed Peter by the lapels of his shirt and yanked him off the ground. Given that the other two weighed more than _three_ Peter Parkers it would have probably gotten much worse if Harry Osborne hadn't arrived with a teacher.

"Moby Dick!" the teacher exclaimed, "What's going on here?!" A heavyset man with a bald head and pointed beard, their English teacher had a strange habit of using famous literary works as expletives. Flash quickly dropped Peter back to his feet and held up his hands defensively.

"Peter started it!" Flash insisted while Kong nodded along. Peter could only gape in shock.

"Oh, come on! You can't believe that!" he protested, "Flash took Gwen's notebook and wasn't going to–" the teacher held up a hand.

"That's quite enough, Mr. Parker," he said, "You know the rules about violence in this school. Report to the principal's office!" Peter groaned and ran his hands down his face as the teacher walked off. Aunt May and Uncle Ben were gonna _kill_ him! Flash and Kong walked down the hall while they chuckled to themselves and Gwen put a hand on Peter's shoulder.

"Thanks for doing that," she said appreciatively, "I mean, it was _dumb,_ but thanks. You really shouldn't keep doing these kinds of things, Peter. You could get seriously hurt!" Peter gave a weak smile before he dropped his head and sighed.

"People can't let Flash do what he wants just because he's popular," he insisted, "Somebody's gotta stand up to jerks around here! Why not me?" Harry smirked as they walked with Peter down the hall. The Principal's office was in the same direction as their next class, after all.

"Oh, I can think of about three hundred reasons," he said as he playfully elbowed Peter in the ribs, "And that's just Kong's left buttcheek!" he laughed… no one else did. Harry's laughter died down quickly and he rubbed at the back of his neck. "Aaaanyway, it's not like anyone actually got beat up this time, and you're one of the top students at Midtown High. You'll be fine!"

As it turned out, Peter was not fine.

"Peter, I'm afraid this behavior is just not acceptable," Principal Coulson said in a wearisome tone. His hands were folded on the desk and he clearly was not enjoying having to have this conversation, "This isn't the first time you've gotten into a physical conflict with Eugene, and I'm worried that until you get seriously hurt you won't let it be the last." Peter squirmed uncomfortably in his seat across the principal's desk with his hands in his lap.

"But Principal Coulson," Peter insisted, "If no one stands up to Flash–"

"There are ways to deal with bullies like Eugene Thompson without resorting to physical violence," Coulson cut in, "You could have done the same thing Harry did and gotten a teacher, for example." Coulson sighed and leaned his elbows on the table with a regretful expression on his face. "Peter, I know you're just trying to do what you think is right and I don't think you should be punished for it. However, if you're going to learn any sort of lesson, I'm afraid that a punishment will be necessary." Peter winced prematurely and Coulson held up a hand. "Calm down, I'm not going to have you serve detention or anything like that," Peter all but sighed with relief, "You're not allowed to go on tomorrow's field trip."

In an instant, Peter's joy was gone and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. He'd been looking forward to the trip to the New York University Science Center for months! Not just for the opportunity to meet Dr. Curt Connors and see Eddie Brock again, but he'd wanted _so_ badly to see the school's display on genetic mutation. It was groundbreaking, ahead of everyone else in the country, maybe the world! And now he wasn't going to get to see them.

"Principal Coulson," he begged, "You can't be ser–"

"I'm afraid I can, Peter," he said sternly, "And I will." Peter groaned and fell back into his chair. "I'll also have to notify your Aunt and Uncle." Peter swallowed suddenly. As if his day couldn't get any _worse._ Peter walked sullenly out of the Principal's office and back to his next class, sitting down between Harry and Gwen in a slump.

"So," Harry said, "How'd it go?" Peter shot him a dirty look.

 **That Night**

Peter was glad that his Aunt May and Uncle Ben hadn't brought it up when he'd got home. Or even at dinner. However, when Peter was washing the dishes, that was when Uncle Ben came over to him under the pretense of helping put the dishes on the drying rack.

"So," his uncle said, "We got a call from your principle today." Peter groaned and Uncle Ben chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I thought." he gave Peter a pat on the back. "I talked to your aunt and we agreed that you'd probably gotten a lecture from your principle already so you didn't want another one right away."

"Uncle Ben," Peter started to say, "People like Flash can't just–"

"I know," Uncle Ben said, "I know you were just trying to do the right thing, and I can understand. You're a lot like your father was. You're a good guy. But you can't just beat people up. There's more to being a good guy than that. I know you'll make us all proud some day, Pete." He gave Peter a pat on the shoulder and left Peter alone to finish the dishes.

"Thanks, Uncle Ben," Peter called. Uncle Ben reached the stairs and then turned around to look in the kitchen again.

"Your aunt still says no TV for a week." Peter groaned and rolled his eyes.

" _Thanks,_ Uncle Ben." he muttered. He could hear Ben chuckling and couldn't help himself from grinning.

 **Ten Minutes Before**

Peter sat in study hall and groaned as he tapped his pencil against his notebook. He'd already been doing classwork and homework for the last hour and a half. If he didn't find something else to do he was going to scream. He stood up with a grumble and walked out of the hall, to stretch his legs and use the bathroom if nothing else. Peter had barely taken two steps out of the bathroom when he caught a bright green glow out of the corner of his eye. He had half a second to register something tugging onto his finger before he was flying out of the school and rocketing through the sky. He was trapped in some kind of green bubble and screaming his head off. He was going faster than any plane. He was going faster than _anything._ What was going on?! A few minutes passed and his bubble came to a screeching halt in a baked desert landscape in… the American midwest? Where was he? In a few seconds, though, the _where_ of Peter's predicament was almost immediately bowled over by the _who_ and the _what._

Peter stared down at what could only be an alien in shock, and that alien was leaning against a crashed vehicle that could only be a spacecraft. He was bald, with pinkish-purple skin in a green-and-black uniform with a strange insignia on the chest. He had a bloody gash ripped through his abdomen and his breath was shallow.

"A-are you okay?" Peter asked. That was a stupid question. "D-do you need help?" That was a _stupider_ question. The alien squinted at him in confusion and disbelief.

"A child?" he wheezed out painfully as purple foam flecked between his teeth, "L-listen to me, boy. There is not much time. My name... is Abin Sur. I am a member of the Green Lantern Corps, the great peacekeeping force in…" he paused to cough and clutched painfully at his wound. "I suppose it does not matter." he muttered weakly. "What is your name, boy?"

"P-Peter Parker." Peter stammered, "My name is Peter Parker. What do you need from me?" Abin nodded and the bubble dissolved from around Peter, dumping him onto the ground as it came onto Abin's finger again. He visibly strained as a beam of light arced into the spacecraft and pulled out… a lantern made of green metal.

"You have been chosen," Abin Sur told him, taking the ring slowly from his finger and holding out to Peter "To be the Green Lantern of Sector 2814." Peter took the green ring and his trembling fingers and stared at it in confusion.

"Chosen? Me? Wh-why?" Peter was never "chosen" for _dodgeball,_ but somehow he had been picked by a dying alien to be a Green Lantern? What the heck _was_ that anyway?! "What's Sector 2814? What's going on?" Abin coughed painfully, blood flecking his uniform.

"There is no time," he gasped in a rattling breath, "The ring will explain. N… now, put the ring on your finger and hold it towards the lantern." Peter nodded nervously and slid the ring onto his finger. He grabbed the handle of the lantern in his other hand and held the ring towards the lantern. "Repeat after me," Abin muttered as his eyelids grew heavy and began to close. "In brightest day,"

"In brightest day,"

"In blackest night,"

"In blackest night,"

"No evil shall escape my sight."

"No evil shall escape my sight."

"Let those who worship evil's might,"

"Let those who worship evil's might,"

"Beware my power, Green Lantern's Light."

"Beware my power, Green Lantern's Light!" There was a sudden flash of green light and Peter felt his body flood with energy as something wrapped around his entire body. Peter looked down at himself and was startled to discover that _he_ was now wearing the same clothes Abin Sur had been wearing. "Whoa," he murmured, "So what happens now, Abin?" he asked as he looked back up. The now-naked Abin Sur gave no answer. His eyes were closed and his chest wasn't moving. "Abin?" Peter repeated softly.

 **At that same moment, at the New York University Science Lab**

"As you can see," Dr. Curt Connors explained as stood in front of a display of genetically-modified spiders with each in a glass case and gestured to them with his one arm, "Our genetics department is working towards manipulating and combining the traits of different species of spiders in an attempt to create the strongest species." Flash Thompson rolled his eyes and picked at his ear. Big deal, so they were making really strong bugs. Or whatever spiders were.

"Doctor Connors," Gwen interjected as she held up a hand, "What do you have to say to the rumors that these experiments are an attempt to recreate or replace the Super Soldier program from World War 2?" Harry shifted a few steps away from Gwen just in case things got heated.

"Nothing more than unfounded internet speculation," Dr. Connors replied calmly, "These experiments are to test and expand upon the limits of genetic manipulation. That information can later be used to further the gene manipulation field towards advances in medicine."

"Hey," Kong said suddenly, "One of those is missing." He'd been kind of zoned out and was just staring at the spiders in their cubes. One of them was missing, though. Dr. Connors and his assistant Eddie Brock spun around to look at the spiders' displays.

"Huh," Eddie muttered, "That can't be good." Connors nodded and rubbed his chin.

"Well," he said, "It's a good thing the spiders are numbered. Can't have someone swatting one of our million-dollar experiments with a newspaper, can we?" Liz Allan looked up slowly, a tingling feeling on the back of her neck telling her that something was watching her. Her eyes went wide with fright and shrieked as she saw a spider about the size of a peach falling down towards her.

"Look out!" Flash shouted as he rushed towards Liz and pushed her out of the way. The spider landed on Flash's hand and he fell backwards, flailing in blind panic and terror, although he would never admit to either. Then he felt something sink into his skin and tried fruitlessly to bite down a scream of pain. Eddie scrambled forward and grabbed the spider in a pair of tongs, pulling hard to yank it off of Flash before tossing it back into its display.

"Eddie," Connors said as he took the display from Brock and put it down with the rest, "Go find a medic." Dr. Connors knelt down beside Flash and fished a vial out of the breast pocket of his coat. "Hold this in your free hand," Connor instructed Flash, handing him the vial, "And hold it to the wound." Flash nodded in dumb shock and did what he was told. Dr. Connors took the hand that had been bitten in his hand and squeezed the bitemarks and filled the vial a little less than halfway with blood from the wound.

"Hey," Liz demanded as she knelt beside Flash, "The heck do you think you're doing?!"

"Please remain calm," Connors replied, although his focus was firmly on Flash rather than Liz, "I just need to collect a sample of your blood. Then I can scan it later to see if it has any infections or abnormalities." He looked up to see Flash's face turn a deathly pale and remembered that this was why he had a doctorate but wasn't a _doctor._ He had terrible bedside manner. "You're going to be fine," he assured Flash calmly, "Nothing is going to happen."


	2. Chapter 2

2: Things Happen

The first thing Peter did was become violently sick. He'd never seen a dead body before, and had _certainly_ never been within five feet of someone as they died. Then he tried to figure out what to do. He supposed the right thing would be to bury Abin but he didn't have a shovel. Yet no sooner had Peter thought of the word "shovel", had visualized the object in his mind, than a green shovel made of light sprang fully-formed from the ring.

"Whoa," Peter muttered as his scientist's brain kicked in and started trying to make sense of everything. So the ring created energy constructs and was controlled by thought. He thought of a bigger shovel… and nothing happened. Peter frowned and concentrated on the thought of a bigger shovel and this time the shovel grew. So, then, it took a little bit of focus. He turned and pointed his ring at the ground and willed the shovel to dig a hole about the appropriate size for a grave. Then he tried to pick Abin Sur up, but the man was heavier than he looked. So Peter created a sling and slowly lowered Abin into the grave before covering him with dirt and patting it down to look inconspicuous. "Okay," Peter said to himself once that was all done, "I guess I should head home now." He paused to take a look at his surroundings. "Where the heck am I?"

Then the ring spoke.

"Scanning," the ring said, which caused Peter to cry out in shock and nearly fall onto his rear end, "Triangulating." It was at this point that Peter realized that, for _whatever_ reason, the ring had the voice of Gwen Stacy. "Location found: the state of Nevada, in the country of the United States." Part of Peter wanted to reflect on the irony of an alien crash-landing in Nevada but he was mostly focusing on the _talking ring._

"Wait, wait, wait," he said as he brought the ring up to his face and stared at it, "Why the heck do you have Gwen's voice?"

"A scan of your memories and brainwaves indicated that this voice would be comforting due to its familiarity and emotional connection, to minimize shock."

"Yeah, well, it's creeping me out. How do I change it?"

"As with all other aspects of the Green Lantern, the ring's voice can be changed with thought." That made sense, Peter supposed. Well, not really. He had a _lot_ of questions about all of this that would have to wait for later. For the moment he just wanted to focus on changing the ring's voice. He thought about it for a moment before he came to a decision. "Does this voice make you less uncomfortable?" It spoke in the voice of Wheatley from 'Portal 2'.

"Yeah, that works," Peter muttered, "Now how the heck do I get home?" He had probably been gone too long and was going to get in _more_ trouble.

" _Thought_ controlled." the ring reminded him and Peter rolled his eyes. He didn't know alien artificial intelligence could be so snarky "Do not forget the battery."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered and pointed his ring out in front of him while holding the Lantern, which he guessed was the battery, in his other hand. Part of him wanted to fly but without knowing how fast he could go he'd probably just waste more time. He thought about a portal opening in front of him that would put him back at Midtown High and one immediately popped into existence in front of him, projected out through his ring. "Wow." he muttered before jumping through the portal. It closed behind him and, sure enough, Peter found himself standing in front of Midtown High School. He quickly ducked around to the back of the school and pulled the ring off. He couldn't exactly walk into school as a Green Lantern when he still didn't know what that _was._ He pulled the ring off and watched as his costume instantly faded from sight before tossing the ring into his pocket. Taking off the ring also caused the lantern to shrink down to a comparable size as well.

That certainly made things easier. He hurried inside the school and hoped no one noticed he was gone as he tip-toed back into Study Hall. Peter checked his watch after he sat down and was surprised to find out only fifteen minutes had passed.

Now, of course, there was a problem. Peter's head was burning with questions about everything that had just happened to him. Why was he chosen? What was a Green Lantern? What did it mean, what were the rules? _Were_ there rules? What could the ring do? Who was Abin Sur?

So the _absolute last_ thing on Peter's mind was schoolwork. He was fully prepared for the next half-hour to drag on when there was a sudden commotion from outside. It sounded like a bunch of people coming into the school, but the field trip group wasn't supposed to be back yet. He got up from his seat and poked his head out of the door. To his surprise it _was_ the field trip group. There were muttered and hushed conversations and the teacher had a serious expression on their face. He craned his neck to see what was going on and noticed Flash Thompson walking with Liz Allan clinging to one arm. His face was uncomfortably pale and he had one hand bandaged up. Even though Flash was a jerk, Peter couldn't help feeling worried for him.

"Hey," Peter whispered to Harry and Gwen as they walked past, "What happened?" His friends came to a stop to speak with him and they looked as worried as he did.

"Flash got bitten by one of their genetically-modified spiders." Harry told him. Peter's eyes bulged wide.

"What?!" he whispered tensely. Genetically-modified _spiders?!_ "Seriously?"

"He pushed Liz out of the way when it tried to bite her," Gwen added. Peter was almost as surprised by that as he was by the fact that Flash had been bitten. He didn't figure Flash as the selfless type. "Doctor Connors says Flash should be okay, though. None of the modified spiders are venomous." Peter nodded and kept watching Flash walk off until he disappeared around the corner.

"Jeez," he muttered, "Poor guy." If Principal Coulson hadn't made him stay home that might have been _him._ As Peter considered the ring in his pocket he realized that he definitely had the better deal.

 **That Night, Parker Residence**

Peter sat in bed and waited until it sounded like Uncle Ben and Aunt May had gone to sleep before he took the ring and the lantern out of his pocket and slipped it onto his finger. His costume flared back onto his body and filled the room with a soft green glow as the Lantern returned to its full size. He stood up and walked across the room to look at his costume in the mirror, turning from side to side to inspect himself.

"Not bad," he muttered. Now that he wasn't in a dazed and confused state of panic he was able to process what he was looking at better, from the white gloves he hadn't noticed before to the white circle and lines on the green chest emblem on the green chestpiece that made a lantern-like symbol. Which made Peter wonder how an alien civilization _had_ lanterns… "Time to get those questions answered, I guess" he muttered as he sat back down on the edge of the bed, "Ring, tell me everything. Start with what a Green Lantern is and how you work. But keep it down, okay?"

"Very well," the ring began, "the Green Lantern Corps was created countless eons by the Guardians, the oldest living race in the universe, of the planet Oa, the planet at the center of the universe." Already Peter had more questions. "The Green Lanterns are the greatest peacekeeping force in the cosmos, chosen for their bravery and the strength of their will, dedicated to preserving life and free will and protecting the innocent. The area that Green Lanterns patrol is divided into 7200 sectors, with approximately two Lanterns to a sector."

"Wait," Peter interrupted, "How large is a sector?"

"Several galaxies," the ring stated plainly. The idea of that gave Peter pause. Was he supposed to go to other galaxies? Was he supposed to leave Earth? He needed a permission slip to leave his own neighborhood, how was he going to go to space?! "The Green Lantern power ring is considered to be one of the most powerful weapons in the universe," the ring continued, "The ring bolsters the bearer's strength, speed, and durability, as well as allowing the ringbearer to fly, project portals, and survive the vacuum of space. Portal projection, it should be noted, is far more draining on the power source than flight. It is also capable of creating any object that the bearer can imagine, though all of these feats are tied into the bearer's willpower, imagination, and focus. However, the ring is not all-powerful."

"Of course it isn't." Peter muttered dryly.

"There are limitations placed upon the Lantern Ring to keep its power from being abused by the wielder, and lethal force may only be used when authorized by the Guardians of Oa." Well that made sense, Peter supposed. "The ring, when fully-charged, contains enough energy for 24 hours of sustained and constant use. When the ring runs out of energy, it must be recharged using the Power Battery and speaking the Green Lantern Corps' oath." Peter found that more than a little surprising. All that power and it only took ten seconds to recharge? Or was it a linguistic or a cadence thing? What if the alien species didn't speak English? Come to think of it, why _was_ the Oath in English?

"I'm getting too ahead of myself," Peter muttered as he hopped off the edge of the bed again and walked back towards the mirror. "Wait a second…" he thought aloud as he stared at his reflection. The costume, the ring, the power, the oath; having an obligation and a purpose to protect innocents and fight evil. "I'm a _superhero."_

 **That Same Time, Thompson Residence.**

Flash Thompson had been sent to bed not long after he'd come home from school. Normally he would have resisted and raised a fuss at being treated like a baby but he was in no shape to complain. Stupid bug. Other than when his mother had brought him some chicken soup, Flash had been sleeping fitfully, tossing and turning and mumbling. Flash awoke most recently with a shudder and a chill. Was he coming down with the flu or had he kicked off his blanket? As Flash opened his eyes he realized neither of these things were true.

He was lying the ceiling. Upside-down.

Flash gave a cry of shock and fell straight from the ceiling to the floor, hitting the ground with a groan.

"Eugene!" His mother called from downstairs, "Are you okay up there?!"

"I'm fine, mom!" he called through the floor, "I just… uh… fell out of bed!" There was no further response and Flash slowly stood up. How was he on the ceiling? Could he… fly? He tried to, he thought _really hard_ about it but… nope. No flying. "Then what the heck happened?" Flash muttered as he leaned against a wall. He put a hand on the wall… and noticed that his hand seemed to stick to the surface. He stared at his hand and put the other hand on the wall, then his feet. He was sticking to the wall… "Like a spider." he realized as he began to climb up the wall. He climbed until he was on the ceiling again and let himself drop. This time he tucked and rolled and landed instinctively on his feet, not making a sound. "Whoa." Flash looked at his hands in confusion. How had he done that? As he was staring he noticed a small… bump on each of his wrists. He flexed his wrists and was startled when thin streams of white string shot out of the bumps and hit the walls. He flexed his wrists again and the strings cut off, dangling off the ceiling. They looked a lot like "Webs," Flash said, stunned, "I... I can shoot _webs."_ Wall-crawling. Webbing. He had _superpowers._ Flash looked in his mirror and stared at himself with dawning awe and excitement. "I'm a _superhero."_

 **The Next Day**

Liz Allan was surprised to find someone knocking on her door that Saturday afternoon. Her parents had both gone to the store and she wasn't expecting Sally Avril to come by today, so she had no idea who would just be dropping by. She hoped it wasn't a door-to-door salesman or something like that. She didn't know how to deal with those people so she usually just wound up closing the door in their face.

"Flash?" she said in surprise as she opened the door and saw him standing on her front porch, "What are you doing here? How did you… I mean, should you be out and around, y'know?" Flash had looked pretty rough when she had seen him last.

"I'm fine," Flash assured her, "More than fine, actually." He certainly looked much healthier than he had yesterday. He wasn't nearly as pale and the swelling on his hand had almost completely disappeared. Liz also noticed that he was holding a notepad in his left hand.

"I'm glad to hear that," Liz said with a smile as she leaned in to give Flash a peck on the cheek, "I'm really grateful for what you did yesterday, Flash. It was brave." Flash grinned and tried to play it cool even while he was blushing. "So what's with the notepad?" Liz asked.

"Oh," Flash said and suddenly looked as awkward as when he'd have to read a book report in front of the class, "Well… uh…" he looked around uncomfortably, "Your folks aren't home, right?" Liz stared at him with one eyebrow raised. "Look, it's just… it's important, all right? Can I come in?" Liz nodded and moved to the side to let Flash inside. She didn't see the problem with that. So far. "Okay," Flash said when Liz closed the door, "Promise you won't freak out."

"Flash," Liz assured him, "When have you _ever_ made me freak out?" She was, however, confused as to why Flash was taking off his shoes and socks.

"I just… I just have to tell you something."

"Okay,"

"It's just…" Flash swallowed and Liz struggled to remember a time Flash had looked nervous or flustered like this, "Hoo boy. It's big."

"Okay," Liz said as she folded her arms over her chest and waited. Flash took a deep breath before he suddenly jumped seven feet straight up into the air from a standing position and twisted around so he was clinging to the ceiling by his hands and feet. Not that he was digging his hands or feet into the ceiling. He was just… _hanging there._

"Pretty neat, huh?" Flash asked with a smirk as his coif of hair dipped down. Liz stared up at him in open-mouthed shock before she screamed and fell backward, landing hard on her rear end as Flash dropped off the ceiling. "Hey, hey, calm down!" he said as he put his hands on her shoulders, "Liz, it's okay!"

"WHAT THE HECK, FLASH?!" Liz demanded as she pushed his hands away, "What the heck is going on?! How did you do that?! What happened to you?!" Flash sighed and sat down beside Liz until she stopped hyperventilating. "Flash," she said softly, "Are you a mutant?" She hoped that didn't sound awful. She didn't _mean_ for it to come out like that.

"No," Flash told her, "I am _not_ a mutant. Something… something happened when that spider bit me. I don't know what but I'm… I dunno. Different now." Liz nodded and pulled her knees up to her chest.

"Why tell me this?" she asked. Flash chewed on his lip and shrugged.

"You're my girlfriend," he said plainly, "I figure if anyone deserved to know, y'know." Liz smiled at that and took Flash's hand in hers. He could be a sweetheart sometimes, the big goof. "I also… kinda need your help." Liz blinked in surprise. What the heck could _she_ do? Flash held out one hand palm up at his notepad, which he'd left on the coffee table, and squinted one eye shut. "Hang on," he muttered, "I'm still figurin' this out." He bent his wrist and a white string shot out of his wrist and… smacked into the coffee table, missing the notepad by a good six inches. "Dang it," he grumbled, "Hang on, hang on." he stuck out his tongue and did it again. This time he hit the notepad and yanked it into his hand. "Ha! Second try!" he grinned before flipping through a few pages and handing the notepad to Liz.

"Wow," Liz said in surprise as she looked down at the sketch, "This is… actually pretty good." she smirked at Flash and he blushed a little. "Since when were you such an artist?"

"Well, y'know," Flash muttered as he rubbed his arm, "Captain America was an artist, everyone knows that. So I may have… I _may_ have taken an art class or two at that one summer camp. I _may_ like to sketch every once in a–" Flash shook his head "Not the point!" Liz giggled and looked back down at the sketch. It really did look good. The bright blue and red, the web-patterns, the mask that opened up to show his mouth and his hair, the web-themed cape.

"Okay," Liz said, "So what does this have to do with me?" Flash shrugged and looked off to the side.

"I can't sew." Liz went to smack him with the notepad and, even though he wasn't looking, he still jerked his head out of the way just in time. "What was that for?!" he asked in an offended tone.

"What," Liz shot back, "Just because I'm a _girl,_ I know how to sew?" He could be a real jerk sometimes, the big goof. Flash shrugged again and Liz groaned. "You're lucky I worked on costumes and stuff for the last school play." She muttered before throwing the notepad at him. Flash caught the notepad out of the air lightning-quick and Liz stared. Flash was _never_ that quick.

"So you'll help me?" Flash asked excitedly with a big grin on his face. Liz smiled and shook her head. It was hard to stay mad at him sometimes.

"Yeah," she said as she bent forward to give him a peck on the cheek, "I'll help you, 'Captain Spider'." she snicked and Flash frowned.

"What's wrong with the name?"

 **Meanwhile**

"Uncle Ben, Aunt May," Peter called as he headed down the stairs with his bag slung over one shoulder, "I'm heading out!"

"Where are you off to?" Aunt May asked as she stuck her head out of the kitchen. Uncle Ben was precariously perched on a stepladder and changing a lightbulb.

"I'm just going to the library," Peter lied, "I need to study for a Chemistry exam next week. I'll be back in a couple hours."

"Lemme go with you," Uncle Ben offered as Aunt May scrambled to hold the stepladder steady for him.

"No," Peter insisted, "It's fine, I won't get lost or anything."

"Tell Harry and Gwendolyn we said hello if you run into them!"

"I will, Aunt May!" Peter assured her as he went out the door. He sighed and leaned against the door for a moment before he headed down the steps. He'd never _lied_ to his Aunt and Uncle before. "What was I supposed to say," he muttered to himself, "'Hey, Aunt May, I'm gonna go down to the abandoned part of the docks and test out this super-weapon I got from a dying alien!'?" Peter shook his head and walked for a little while until he was out of the neighborhood. He looked for an alley to duck into and slid the ring onto his finger. "There's gotta be a better-smelling way to do this," he muttered as his costume flashed into existence. He created a mirror construct and looked in it for a moment, pursing his lips in thought. He couldn't just fly around with his face out in the open. Aunt May would have a heart attack. He needed to do _something_ to hide himself. "I can alter the costume, right?"

"Thought controlled," the ring reminded him and Peter rolled his eyes.

"I _get_ it." he muttered as he looked back at the mirror. He thought about a mask. The first that came to his mind was a domino mask. It certainly _looked_ snazzy, but no one who knew him was going to be fooled because they couldn't see the bridge of his nose or his cheekbones. He thought about it for a moment and, as he thought, a green cloth stretched up from the neck of his costume and wrapped around his head. Two large white eyes formed on his face and he grinned behind the mask. "Not bad," he muttered, "Not bad at all." He tossed the mirror away and it dissipated before it would have hit the ground and shatter like a normal mirror, "Let's try flying."

Peter then realized he didn't know how to do that. Yes, he knew that the ring was thought-controlled, but what did that mean in this case? Think happy thoughts? Think of a jetpack? Think about flying? Not wanting to ask out loud and suddenly regretting giving the ring such a sarcastic voice, Peter decided to just go with the last one. He closed his eyes and just… thought. He thought about flying, what it would feel like to fly and how fast he could go. To soar high above the clouds, away from all his problems. To be completely and totally free from everything, even the laws of physics. Peter felt as if something was lifting him up and the ground came out from under him. He grinned behind the mask and opened his eyes... to see that he was about ten feet in the air. Peter smiled before he squawked with shock when he started to drop out of the air.

"Happy thoughts, happy thoughts!" he shouted nervously as he closed his eyes before hitting the pavement. Except… he didn't hit the pavement. He slowly opened one eye and then the other. He was floating maybe an inch above the ground now. "Okay," he sighed out, "Okay." He focused again and tightened his fists and rushed back up into the air. He stood up straight in the air as he soared up higher and higher, looking down to see a trail of green light following after him. "Let's see what I can do!" Peter said as he went horizontal again, tucking his left arm at his side and stretching out his right. He was pretty sure he'd seen that in a comic once. All he had to do was _think_ about flying fast and it happened. He zipped between skyscrapers and raced around radio towers in tight spirals before diving down and flying down the highway, inches above the top of cars. He could fly. He could fly!

Tony Stark was having a refreshing glass of **[The legal team of Mr. Stark has informed me that Mr. Stark was drinking a glass of cola and nothing else]** when a green streak of light rocketed past his living room window. Tony spat out his **[Cola]** in shock and stared at the streak as it flew past.

"J.A.R.V.I.S," he murmured, "Clock that thing. I wanna see if it outran my suits."

Nick Fury watched the Green Light streaking through New York City on one of the massive monitors of the Helicarrier's bridge as he stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Hill," he muttered, "Keep an eye on that thing."

Peter brought his antics to a close and brought himself down to a cruising speed while still smiling behind his mask. This was, officially, the best. He couldn't wait to tell Harry and Gwen! Except, Peter realized, he couldn't. Not that he didn't trust his friends to keep that kind of secret, of course, it was just that if he had enemies, and he almost _certainly_ would have an archnemesis or two, then every time he fought them, his friends and family would get worried sick over his safety. No, Peter realized, better that the Green Lantern be some faceless neon dogooder. But what would that mean for Peter Parker? Would he have to flake out on social meetings or important occasions because the Lantern was needed? Would his life be a perpetual struggle of disappointment and heartbreak?

Before Peter could reflect for too much longer on this melancholy subject, an explosion caught his attention. He cut a sharp turn and flew over the tops of buildings to head for the source of the explosion, which was the headquarters for the Roxxon Corporation, one of the largest energy producers in the world. Peter flew into a smoking hole that had been blasted out of the side of the building and joined a robbery in progress, mid-evil monologue.

"-Ember this day as the last day before _The Beetle_ brought New York city to its knees!" crowed the electronically-synthesized voice of a man in a suit of red-and-gray power armor. With his big gray wings, gray antennae, and green plexiglass eyes, he was definitely going for the insect look. He was also holding some sort of briefcase and Peter had to assume it wasn't his. "Hey," Beetle went on when he realized everyone was pointing _behind_ him now, "What're you all staring at?!"

"Probably me," Peter guessed as he floated above The Beetle. Beetle spun around and gawked up at Peter as he pointed his ringed fist at him, "I gotta say, though, you look like Stark Towers would be more your speed. Unless you're afraid of getting slapped with a Cease and Desist for that armor, I mean."

"Who the heck are _you?!"_ Beetle demanded, gesticulating with one of his arm cannons.

"Name's Green Lantern," Peter declared more boldly than he felt -after all, he was floating in mid-air in what were essentially pajamas–, "Now put down the briefcase before things get ugly." Beetle scoffed and raised both arm cannons.

"I've got a better idea," he said before firing off a burst of yellow energy blasts at Peter. Peter's mind immediately went to a giant triangular shield, not unlike a knight's shield, and took the first few blasts before he dropped out of the air.

' _Wait, what?'_ Peter thought in confusion. What, because he had stopped focusing on flying to make a shield, he wasn't flying anymore?

"See ya around, Lantern!" Beetle called sarcastically as he sailed out of the hole in the wall and up into the sky. Peter glared after him and took off into the sky. He'd figure out the specifics of how the ring worked later. Right now, he'd just have to force it to work. He had to admit that Beetle's suit was pretty maneuverable, as they zipped between and around buildings, it was hard for Peter to get ahead of him. Finally, Peter hauled back his ring hand and generated an enormous flyswatter, smacking Beetle down towards the pavement and willing himself to stop from falling. Beetle hit the ground with a thud and the briefcase went skidding out of his hands across the street.

"Well," Peter quipped as he floated down to Beetle's level, "Had enough?" Beetle groaned as he stood up and aimed both arm cannons at him, followed by about a dozen cannons that popped out of his shoulders and back. "...Clearly not." Peter brought up his shield again as Beetle unloaded with a burst of shots that pinged and panged against the projection. Peter held steady for a moment before he suddenly got an idea and pushed his shield forward, which transformed into a bubble and wrapped around Beetle. Before he could stop himself, Beetle's shots bounced and ricocheted off the bubble and blasted himself with his own beams, tearing his armor to pieces. Peter let the bubble drop and sauntered over to the staggering would–be supervillain before generating a small fan to blow him over. Beetle collapsed to the ground and the people quickly flocked to the streets to cheer and take pictures as Peter posed triumphantly over his unconscious foe. An older African-American gentleman in a shirt and tie made his way through the crowd with a notepad and pen in one fist as he adjusted his glasses with the other.

"Nice work there, kid," the man said as he held out his hand, "Ben Urich, Daily Bugle. Now, who are _you?"_ Peter beamed behind the mask as he shook Ben's hand. His first reporter!

"Call me The Green Lantern," he said, "I'm here to help."


End file.
